


Beware the Youth

by Spacecarrots



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Established Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Fuckin' Fluffy Mondays, In the end, M/M, Making Out, Robot Feels, Sleepy Cuddles, combiner weirdness, defend your bae, except its now tuesday, except not really bc these dumb jets dont rlly apply to the laws of age, robot alcohol, well if u consider being clingy fucking idiots making out then sure ye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:17:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7717993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecarrots/pseuds/Spacecarrots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Silverbolt isn't actually the youth in question, it's everyone else on the ark. And for plot purposes they are either nosey bitchs or rude mf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beware the new Lab Mate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aerialbots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerialbots/gifts).



> Do u ever write a fic and u re-read it and u just take a moment to look at ur metaphors and adjectives and grammar and writing choices and life choices and golly gosh...Wow.
> 
> Any way this is for Justteaforme who wanted Firebolt for the B-day that then got deleted when i cleared all my notes for pokemon go thinking they were saved on my laptop lol arrives five month later wit a fic that was originally done but had to be rewritten I hope u liek iit C:|

In all honesty Skyfire had been hiding in the cupboard long before Silverbolt had arrived and introduced himself to Brainstorm. No, the latest addition to the arks labs had not driven him into hiding among the telescopes and test tubes. It was his invasive questions. Boy, what a character. What a special individual. What an aft.

“Isn’t he…” Brainstorm should have been thanking the universe for Silverbolt’s seemingly endless patience. The scientist was making an encouraging sort of servo gesture like he might get the other jet to say it. As if it would make the conversation less awkward. Skyfire wasn’t leaving the store cupboard for another million years. He was going to die in here, of sheer embarrassment, or worse because Brainstorm combusted of the intensity of Silverbolt’s stare. Silverbolt simply waited for him to realise this wasn’t a topic up for discussion. He kept waiting. Skyfire almost wanted to burst and and declare First and foremost because it’s none of your business. Secondly, it’s  _ None. Of. Your. Damn. Business.  _ “...Old.” Brainstorm finally said with the appropriate amount of hesitation, that Silverbolt thought should have been applied to what came out of his mouth, but then Brainstorm was still talking. Terrible communication in that relationship. “You...do you two...you know…” Silverbolt’s universal patience was wearing thin, his wings took a threatening sort of angle as the weapons engineer made an open fist of one servo and inched the index finger of his other servo toward it. 

“This is literally the first time we’ve met.” Silverbolt said plainly. Oh how he wanted to slap him. Oh how Skyfire wanted Silverbolt to slap him

  
“Yeah, but just between us jets.” Brainstorm elbowed Silverbolt in the arm. Silverbolt only needed to look at him for the smaller bot to reverse out of his personal space. So the aft could detect intrusion. “How big we taking?”    

“We’re not talking about this.” said Silverbolt in a flat voice, though Skyfire imagined it was actually a declaration of disbelief. 

“You know he was a ‘con right?” If they’d have been in private, Skyfire also imagined the array of frustrated hand gestures Silverbolt would have made at Brainstorm’s dismissal of his previous statement. He tried not to imagine the days he’d spend gearing himself up to telling Silverbolt of his past affiliations, even though what Brainstorm was saying wasn’t particularly accurate. He tried to think more of the quiet way Silverbolt had replied with a short tale of how he’d followed his team mates to the Decepticon base to defect, how they’d almost died, and how teammates had started to seem too indecisive. It was the first time they’d been honest about their place in their function. The first time Skyfire had consciously thought of how much he trusted Silverbolt.

“That’s not accurate, but yes.” Silverbolt replied, his voice toneless and dull. Skyfire though he should have really jumped in at this point. Silverbolt would have done it for him by now-

“Rumour has it he experiments on himself?” Skyfire’s spark caught before it shrunk in his chest. 

Silverbolt’s expression was flat disinterest.“I don’t like rumours.” Brainstorm seemed to want to try and analyses that response but came the conclusion as everyone else had upon meeting Silverbolt, that that was a losing battle. The shrinking spark in Skyfire’s chest swelled.

“That he had a _thing_  with Starscream?” Silverbolt inhaled slowly and nodded. “Jealous?” 

“Not really.” Brainstorm seemed to disagree, judging by the purse of his lips. “Anything else?” 

“He was frozen, for like, a million years. That makes him like one of the oldest mechs on this ship. You don’t think that’s gross?” Honestly Skyfire wondered if anyone was going to let that go. He had been in his prime when he’d been frozen, and it wasn’t as if the Cybertronian race had evolved that much fighting each other and all. Wasn’t it enough that he was their free worldwide taxi, couldn’t they just drop it. And while on the topic; hadn’t the original members of the Ark’s crew been put into emergency stasis long enough for the human race to evolve?

“You already told me he was old.” Silverbolt deadpanned. Brainstorm started say ‘yeah but like he’s really really-’. “I don’t care. What I care about is your lack of respect for not one, but two superior officers private lives and your rude attempts to get an emotional response from me.” Brainstorm opened his mouth to speak but Silverbolt made a mouth of his hand and closed it. The weapons specialist’s mouth followed. “You’re wasting my break with your gossip. So, replace whatever smart comment you were going to make with Skyfire’s where abouts. Please.” 

Brainstorm’s expression was of a mech that had no defence and was angry about it. Silverbolt’s was no more animated that they had been when he’d entered the room. “Store room.” He grumbled. “Sir.”         

“Thank you.” And with that Silverbolt turned and marched toward the storeroom. Skyfire fled from his listening point at the door and found a box to busy himself with. When Silverbolt entered it was to Skyfire animatedly rummaging through a box labeled test tubes balanced on his hip humming the opening theme for Star Trek. “You little shit.” Silverbolt said upon closing the door and setting servos on his hips. Skyfire froze, and hesitated before turning to the jets intensely miffed faceplates. 

“Oh, um, hello.” Skyfire tried for offhand but it was too late he was dead. He was a dead mech. And worse Brainstorm would find his body in a storage cupboard.

“Don’t you “oh um hello” me,” Silverbolt hissed. He punched Skyfire in the arm not painfully hard but solid enough that Skyfire rubbed his arm. “Mr- Mr hidey Mc hiding place.”

“I’m sorry.” Skyfire apologise sincerely. Silverbolt looked unconvinced. “I’m really sorry. You were amazing.” He’d been telling Brainstrom to stop asking him his intrusive questions all day, only to find himself retreating to his current hiding spot more and more frequently. Silverbolt had dismantled his prying in under five minutes. With luck for good. Silverbolt pursed his lips. Yet flattery was not his ally in the fight for the concorde’s forgiveness. “I have no defence for my actions. You are amazing.” Skyfire admitted, because he was amazing, and the shuttle had no defence. 

“Oh no you don’t.” Silverbolt scolded, stepping away from Skyfire as if he were a nun and the scientist a robot sin. Skyfire looked at him startled.  

“What?” 

“Don’t do that, don’t do that cute- stupid thing you do where you compliment me so I get flustered and forgive you, I’m not letting you off because you give me that look.” Skyfire’s expression softened, Silverbolt was trying his very best not to release his anger, Skyfire was too busy adoring his prowess, his resilience toward idiot opinion of their relationship, the trembling corner of his lips as he battled against as smile. “That’s the look.”

“What look?” Skyfire set the box he’d been holding on his hip down and approached Silverbolt with heavily lidded optics, and his mushiest smile. 

Silverbolt groaned as Skyfire took his servos. “Like I could combine into Superion and step on you and you’d still think I was the best thing since tarps.” Skyfire chuckled and rubbed his servos up and down Silverbolt’s arms.

“They’re blankets for your alt mode, Silverbolt. It doesn’t get much better than that.” 

“Screw you.” Silverbolt said lamely, though he was finally smiling that careful smile, and begrudgingly pecked a kiss on Skyfire’s lips. 

“In here, right now, _again_.” Skyfire grinned. “Oh that would certainly give Brainstorm something to talk about.” Silverbolt made a mumbled noise that wasn’t a dismissal of the idea but he seemed to still be holding onto his resentment. “How long do I have?” 

“Skyfire…” Silverbolt sighed. 

“How long do I have to try and earn your forgiveness?” Skyfire arm snaked around Silverbolt’s hips and drew their frames flush. Silverbolt bit his lip. 

“Not long enough.” He drawled, his tone husky and with enough sensuality for Skyfire to start kissing up the length of his neck and along the curve of his jaw. “You’re terrible.” Silverbolt sighed, his helm tilted back and his optics closed. With a deep chuckle muffled by neck cables Skyfire hoisted Silverbolt up and let him tangle his legs around his body. 

“I would fly into the centre of a raging black hole for you.” Skyfire breathed, dragging his mouth along the corners of the decorative wings of his chest. “You know that don’t you?”    
Silverbolt sniggered and lifted Skyfire’s chin. “Yes.” He smiled, before guiding Skyfire’s lips to his own and sighing with relief. 


	2. Beware the Minibots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is just jealous bc the cutest shuttle is wit the hottest jet and they can't control the salty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me consistently updating a fic for the first time wooow

Silverbolt was not stepping in to help. He was content to take his time picking his drink, waiting for his brothers, and contemplating if this was the end of his revenge after that cringe worthy conversation with Brainstormer. If it ended here at the end of the week gathering of mechs after their shift. Or if he should extend Skyfire’s punishment out for just a little bit longer. Skyfire’s attempt to earn his forgiveness over last 36 hours had been no good for his ego or work schedule but, damn sexy over all. And it wasn’t as if Skyfire didn’t know he was being punished, he did, even if it could be called that. According to his brothers Silverbolt didn’t punish, he silently let people want for his forgiveness and let them come to their own conclusions, “mother’s guilt.” Skydive had called. And Skyfire had been good about it. And patient, making dragging it out officially and prolonging forgiveness a little pointless. After all Skyfire did get offended easier than Silverbolt. Not quite as quick as Slingshot or Air Raid might, but he was starting to look a little tense. 

“And you don’t think he’s too young?” Mirage asked blatantly. Silverbolt  watched the table of mini bots Skyfire sat at rigidly, and let himself be offended at how the mech treated Skyfire like an adult. Silverbolt was an adult. And then, in his mind's eye, placed that thought into a little box and threw it off a cliff.

“I think if someone is capable of making decisions for an entire autobot fleet, then I’m sure they’re more than capable of making their own relationship choices.” said Skyfire simply, though he let out a little indignant breath, like it was obvious, or that if he’d had sweat glands he’d be swimming right now. Mirage mutter something that sounded like ‘keep telling yourself that’ into his glass. Silverbolt watched Skyfire’s reflection on the stained mirror behind the bar. That open mouthed frown that was on the edge of breaking this polite conversation. 

“And it’s not like...weird?” Cliffjumper interjected. 

“Please elaborate, Cliffjumper.” Skyfire said pointedly. The table looked over at him, thankfully Swerve arrived with Silverbolt’s drink as they did holding the illusion that Silverbolt was oblivious to their conversation. Silverbolt thanked him, made small talk and order a pitcher for the inevitable arrival of his team. 

“I mean I get it, he has a great aft, but with the whole...” Cliffjumper put his hand in line of sight of his mouth, and tried to discreetly say, “Combiner thing.” Brawn, nursing a large glass of highgrade that Silverbolt had to admit he’d struggle with, made a strange face. 

“Yeaahhh,” He drawled drunkenly. “How can you be with him if they're already all with each other.” Brawn proceeded to start mutter in quiet slurred tone something that sounded like  _ that’s like five spikes, it just doesn’t compute, how’d you even with all that interface, it’s too much... _

“They’re not romantically involved with each other.” Skyfire took a large swig from his drink. Silverbolt felt the urge to laugh. Firstly, because he knew half his team wouldn’t even have the patience to consider liking Silverbolt in that way. Secondly, he’d imagined Air raid strutting like a peacock for him (“ _ Can you handle the eagle? _ ”). And thirdly because Skyfire looked like he’d just realised his conversation tickets destination said “stupid town”. It was a terrible place to be heading, and Silverbolt almost dived in to save him, Almost. 

“Them Technobots are.” Cliffjumper pointed out. Skyfire’s face was a picture of pure a mech surrounded by ignorance. Silverbolt could hear Skyfire at two am as he climbed into the berth after a long shift,  _ good for you *insert name here* would you like a noble prize?  _

“Yes, but not all combiners are.. _.involved _ .” As if by magic, Silverbolt could hear the babble of thoughts, feelings, and chatter as his four apparent lovers approached. He updated them on the situation at hand with an amused memo stating Skyfire’s facial expressions and felt them speed up to his position.

“So,” Bumblebee, maybe Bumblebee would be the one to save him while he organised his brothers into casual eavesdroppers. “How do you feel about his whole deal with heights, like as another jet?” Bumblebee the betrayer sipped hurriedly at his drink. Silverbolt was not letting Fireflight flirt with him tonight. 

“His  _ phobia _ ,” They all looked to him expectantly. “Actually if you all must know I think it’s quite rational considering every time one of us takes off we’re at risk of being fired upon and sent hurtling toward the ground.”  

“And, conveniently, that justifies your fear of the cold.” Mirage said cooly from his now reclined position next to Cliffjumper. Skyfire gave him a biting look. I was a look the unfortunately existed for many of the Autobots that had witnessed his waking seconds of decepticon limelight and lost no recharge over abandoning him in the arctic one again. Skyfire knew Mirage had no respect for him, which was fine Skyfire gave none back past social etiquette standards, so the autobot smile was sickeningly beautiful as he continued to pick at him 

“Or your vanity."   
  
"My vanity." Because of course there had to something more than just loving Silverbolt.    
  
"You're a big mech, as is Silverbolt. Your a shuttle and he’s a big jet. He has rank, looks. Can do no wrong for Optimus. Seems to me like you’re hitting just a little out of your class for a shiny new toy." 

The table was quiet. Silverbolt fumed but his curiosity kept im rooted. Silverbolt was a mech of many mechs. He possessed all their thoughts, sparks and emotions as well as his own in one. Which meant that initially bitter interactions like this fascinated him, that one mech could treat another with such little disregard for another's feelings. Silverbolt had never had one day where he hadn’t known how his words affected another. He constantly worried about others feelings. And Skyfire so kind and calm and civil and noble was just the same, only less inclined to have it rule his world. Silverbolt had thought that his feelings for Skyfire were ones of envy, that he just wanted to be more like him. Then Skyfire had rested his helm on his shoulder and Silverbolt realised he wanted both to be like him and to love him.     
  


"You're too kind, Mirage." Skyfire's tone was soaked in a tired sarcasm. Silverbolt couldn’t stand that tone. "Where is my helm? Primus forbid I like someone not unattractive. You're all right, I should leave him immediately and throw myself in the brig for aiming above my type."    
  
"Excuse me." Silverbolt, flanked by four nosey jets that stormed the table. The group was silent again. A more awkward than stunned at the topic of conversation appearing before them.    
  
Skyfire let out an indignant, breathy little laugh. "Nothing apparently." He stood, grabbed his empty glass and waited for Silverbolt to move. "I think I'm going to retire to my lab." Skyfire sounded more exhausted than he did hurt, which pulled all the enjoyment out if his previous squabbling and replaced it with guilt. The group watched Skyfire.   
  
"Do you mind if I join you?" Silverbolt asked, Skyfire's features yielded into something gentler and he sighed. The minibots (and Mirage though he’d sunk a level in Silverbolt’s opinion) looked to Silverbolt.   
  
"Not at all." All optics flicked to Silverbolt offering him his arm subtilely and Skyfire taking of it. They said no more as Skyfire was escorted from the rec. room. Behind them the Mirage and Cliffjumper stifled a snigger.    
  
"Don't forget to look both ways when you cross the street." Cliffjumper whispered to Mirage, who laughed loudly and haughtily. The Aerialbots left behind collectively, and unnaturally in unison, snapped combustion chamber hot glares toward the sound of the insult.   
  
"At least their relationship isn't based solely on sexual attraction and dominance in the berth." Skydive uttered with scrutiny and snark, stealing the bowl of iron flakes at the centre of the table. Slingshot, Air raid and Fireflight howled at the sick burn and collectively flipped off the table before exciting themselves.    
  
Outside the rec. room, where the hallway lights had been dimmed for the late hour, and the noise of relaxing mechs was muffled the silhouette of two mechs talking quietly. Skyfire was gently pressed against the wall while Silverbolt tenderly cupped his faceplates, as he gingerly pressed dainty kisses all over his faceplates.    
  
"Hey, lover birds!" Air raid called. They both blinked over at them. Four bright blue lights, of two different shades, with their attentions catching in the same directions.    
  
"The aft hats hath been slain, let's get the frag out of here!" Slingshot yelled. Silverbolt smirked at this and took Skyfire's servo in a tight grip.    
  
"Where are we going?" Skyfire asked as the Concorde half dragged him after his team.    
  
"The fire house." Fireflight roared. The others whooped. Even Skydive, though more monotoned and subdued.    
  
"Oh." Skyfire said in a small voice. Silverbolt tucked his arm under Skyfire's as they caught the others. "Silverbolt, I think I've had my fill of parties for a while." he whispered to Silverbolt as they walked to save hurting the less negotiable Aerialbots.    
  
"It's not a party. It's more of a get together." Silverbolt said. "Just a bottle of high grade, the Protectobots, technobots-" Skyfire paused, halting Silverbolt who was joint at the hip found himself doing the same..    
  
"Like one of your...gestalt get togethers?" Skyfire asked quietly as the others chattered on ahead. The gestalt get togethers were a thing of legend. Skyfire had only ever heard of them in pleasant story form from Silverbolt. Yes, there was the drunk party part, but more often than not Silverbolt was involved in the more subdued and civilised energon wine and space cheese talk that involved friends that didn't pry or askers of personal questions. Skyfire’s kind of party.   
  
"Well, I guess it is, but Ratchet and Wheeljack will be there, and maybe Inferno and Red Alert later. We could ask Perceptor too if you like and Drift...You're making the face again, why are you making that face?"    
  
"What face?" Skyfire grinned. "This is  _ my _ face." Silverbolt indulged in a quiet giggle while the others were out of earshot, and tapped the tip of Skyfire's nose.    
  
"It's a very pretty face." Silverbolt mused. "And I'm sorry I didn't intervene sooner. I should have threatened them with a court martial, or zapped them, or-"    
  
"Silverbolt." Skyfire chuckled. "It doesn't matter. They can say what they want. What matters is that at the end of the cycle I'm with you."   
  
Silverbolt smiled back, then kissed him again. Only once. Maybe twice. Long, but restrained kisses of a mech wishing they weren't in the middle of the hallway right now. "I'd still kick all their afts for you." Skyfire beamed at the statement and kissed the top of the Concorde’s helm.    
  
"Come on!" One of the Aerialbots yelled. "Mechs are dying of thirst here!" Probably Slingshot. "Save it for the silver screen!" Or Air raid. Skyfire inhaled and exhaled above him. While Silverbolt squeezed his waist. 

“All right we’re coming.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Mirage u silly bitch fighting a combiners squeeze (im so sorry this is so petty bye) Next week cuddles C; !!!


	3. Beware the Sleepy Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyfire is child, and Silverbolt is a grumpy old man, go figure huh???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck the english language tbh wat with its french and latin god so extra (its 2am but i did it) Also listen Silverbolt reads so many romance novels like so many like shh listen so many

This was delightful. That was all Skyfire's overcharged processor could feed him. It was about 12am. And both Skyfire and Silverbolt had decided that they were as content, and as relaxed as they were going to get. They had had their fill of galactic cheeses, and highgrade wine, and combiner parental talks and failed attempts to just look at each other quietly without a sarcastic comment. Really, as if Skydive and Hot spot were any better, what with their hugging and clever flirting. The Protectobots and their endless amounts of kindness had blessed them with access to a guest bedroom. Something about not condoning intoxicated transformation outside of a safe, sealed place. And joint at the hip the pair made it out of the kitchen area. It was nice to just walk together and giggle about nothing but Silverbolt's lack of subtly after two bottles of purple. They made it out of earshot before Silverbolt scooped Skyfire up into his arms and fireman flung him over his shoulder. Skyfire let an undignified half laugh of glee and half shout of surprise as his world cartwheeled. 

“Silverbolt!” Skyfire started. Silverbolt let out a triumphant laugh and marched on. “Put me down! I’m too heavy. I’ll squish you…” 

Silverbolt laugh was a terribly wonderful thing that sounded both like a giant carrion birds caw and a metal grinder. “Fear not fair maiden I- I am Superion’s central load bearer! We shall be safe in the confines of our bed before gravity claims us!” He hoisted Skyfire more securely on his shoulder before picking up the pace.

“You are ridiculous.” Skyfire beamed flustered and disorientated as he clung to Silverbolt's shoulders, and Silverbolt's fingers hugged his hip. “My aft will break your back strut.” Skyfire warned, Silverbolt made a low intrigued _ohho?_. A servo cupped his aft and Skyfire was ashamed to admit that he squealed, and batter at the back of Silverbolt's helm fruitlessly.  

“What this old thing?” He gave it a teasing squeeze. And to Skyfire's dismay, vents opened, pistons hissed, and fans blew steam from his system. As a form of protest Skyfire batted Silveerbolt's aft. But Silverbolt's triumph smile seeped into his tone. “Doth the fair maiden wish to get down?” 

“You are terrible.” Was all Skyfire could manage in the dregs of his dignity. But at least here he could watch the contracting of plaiting and the smaller hydraulics of Silverbolt's own aft as he walked. He was actually surprisingly strong. 

“I’ll take that as a no. And a compliment.” said the jet. 

Even as they arrived at the guest bedroom door Silverbolt didn't put him down, he waited until they were inside to lay Skyfire down on the berth like precious goods and even then only let go for a moment as he climbed on top of the shuttle like a cat. But before he had time to make himself comfortable Skyfire had him, tugging him down by the chest plate for his kiss. His neat kiss, cushioned by full lips and bottomless pools of love. Skyfire wasted no time in capturing that and kissing him furiously, feverishly, and sloppily, kissing him over and over until Silverbolt put a servo on his chin and pulled them apart. Skyfire blinked lazily at his lips then up at Silverbolt questioning. 

“Is-was that okay?” He asked innocently. Silverbolt answer was to kiss him again, chaste on his cupid's bow. The shuttle smiled gentle. 

“There’s witchcraft on your lips.” Silverbolt quoted with a small grin. He put his servos on Skyfire shoulders and pushed him into the covers of the berth. “But I want your frame.” He said lowly. Skyfire rolled his optics as Silverbolt all but dove to his side, and twinned his limbs with his and joint them at the hip again and brought Skyfire as close to combination with his as he was ever going to get. Silverbolt was ridiculously kinetic for someone who seemed so untouchable. he truth of it was that they cuddled more than they interfaced. Which was no problem to Skyfire, who was only interested in things that involved Silverbolt’s lips. Like kissing. 

“Satisfied?” Skyfire asked, once Silverbolt had them knotted together. He felt him nod rather than saw him, and had to search in between his shoulder and neck to find Silverbolt’s faceplates. He tilted his silver helm up from the depths of the covers and found him sleepy eyed and with puckered lips. Skyfire leaned his helm back and kissed his cheek. A disappointed groan sounded in Silverbolt’s throat while Skyfire chuckled and kissed his optic, his chin, his brow. Until Silverbolt removed his servos from around Skyfire’s frame to intervene and put their mouths together. Skyfire sniggered into their kiss while Silverbolt maneuverer his helm to best lap at Skyfire’s tongue, and simultaneously keep his lips locked on Skyfire's bottom lip. It was hard considering Skyfire was now suffering from the drunk giggles, and wouldn't stop  _smiling_.   

“You are such a child.” Silverbolt scolded, opting for taking his tongue to get him to shut up and kiss him. It failed, Skyfire chortled and kiss him with his initial intense, messy, kiss. But Silverbolt humored him for a moment but then took charge. If he had to keep himself awake it was to order not- “Skyfire,” Silverbolt sighed, as the shuttle rolled them both, effectively pinning Silverbolt underneath him to better kiss his cheekbones.

“Oh Commander.” He smiled, he pecked corner of Silverbolt’s mouth. “Chill out.” Silverbolt was too giddy and intoxicated to hold his glare. Especially when Skyfire kissed the other corner of his mouth and called him fragging commander. Silverbolt moaned from deep within his throat. It was partly out of pleasure, partly out of irritation as Skyfire started working his servos into his shoulders and pecking the cables of his neck.

“I can’t, I’ll fall asleep.” He groaned as Skyfire hummed into seams between jaw and neck. Skyfire had such a meticulous touch, it worked the ties in his system, de-stressed his data banks, and eased his plating. Silverbolt was nothing but a pile of contempt hums, blissful groans, and moans of vague sleepy directions to kiss his wings again. This sort of thing always lead to the same end. It was one of the reason why the two didn’t drink. “Skyfire?” Silverbolt asked drowsily, half yawning as he did. Skyfire knew the sound of his recharge deprived significant other, and retreated from his mission of exploring Silverbolt’s right aileron to see the sleepy mech rub his optic furiously. Skyfire kissed the optic once he was done and then Silverbolt’s lips, just once more. Without further adieu, with Silverbolt's sleepy smile on his processor, he rolled off of Silverbolt and laid on his side. Silvebolt’s limbs wound around his waist and he rested his chin on Skyfire’s helm. “Goodnight.” he yawned. Skyfire brought his servo up to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> start lifting so u can carry ur shuttle bae to bed; lt8z

**Author's Note:**

> [Me, hosing syrup onto a mountain of sugar coated sugar] it gets worse


End file.
